


Loss

by Schiffsgefangnis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schiffsgefangnis/pseuds/Schiffsgefangnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To protect Bertholdt, Reiner pushes him out of the way of an attacking flesh-eater and gets bitten himself. Bertholdt experiences losing his best friend, and puts him down himself before he manages to transform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss

The hungered growls and hisses echo in Bertholdt's head. The crack of bone and tearing of flesh, the ringing of gunfire and the wet sound of blood splattering across concrete. Eyes wide and unblinking, he readjusts his partner over his shoulder, his heavy weight slowing him down considerably. Yet despite this, he pushes himself to continue the pumping of his legs, desperate to escape the monsters. The adrenaline coursing through his body is all that keeps him on his feet. The ragged pants coming from him nearly overlap the weak words Reiner was speaking.

“Bertholdt!” 

His name was spoken roughly and in a cracked voice before a hand weakly pushes at his stomach. It broke him out of his panicked state. He slows down, legs burning and hair matted down with his sweat. 

Both men grunt as Bertholdt gently lowers Reiner down onto the dirty sidewalk in front of a short fence. Glancing around, Bertholdt spots no flesh eaters, thank God, and diverts his attention back to his partner. They must have out ran them. It was a good idea to cut through the narrow alleyways, then.

Bertholdt crouches down and reaches his hands out to gingerly take hold of his forearm. Their breathless panting fills the tense silence as Bertholdt examines Reiner's injury. The bite was swollen and had a nasty purple hue to it. Reiner was panting, head tipped back against the fence. Bertholdt licks his chapped lips and shifts closer, gazing down at the wound. What were they going to do now?

Reiner lifts his head and looks at him tiredly. 

“Bertl, listen to me,” he breathlessly says. Those green eyes lift to him. A empty smile ghosts over Reiner's lips, his golden eyes weak as they gaze in Bertholdt's. Bertholdt stares at him silently, long fingers curled around Reiner's inner elbow and wrist.

“You're going to take your machete and put it through my skull, got it?,” Reiner begins, but was interrupted before he could continue with a firm refusal from Bertholdt. Bertholdt's brow remains furrowed with his eyes wet. Despite this, Reiner speaks again with a stern expression on, “I don't want to be dead weight. After that, you need to go on and make it to the fort, alright? Don't give up.”

“No,” Bertholdt growls, retracting his hands from Reiner's burning skin. He swallows thickly and then stands. Reiner gazes up at him. Looking down into his eyes, Bertholdt can see the tell-tale redness glowing in the golden. Reiner was going to change soon, he could tell. It's unfortunate Reiner is one of the people that change within the hour. He frowns and quietly speaks.

“I'll check the pharmacy again. We may have passed some Zombrex.”

Reiner reaches out and takes his wrist, shaking his head. 

“There is no chance that we overlooked some. Looters stripped the whole place clean, ” Reiner murmurs hoarsely, a soft smile on his lips. Bertholdt doesn't understand why he's smiling. Wasn't he afraid? Wasn't he angry? Reiner looks down, fingers tightening around Bertholdt's wrist. He remains silent a moment before he quietly speaks again.

“That will take too long, Bertl, you know that. I don't have much time left. My fingers feel restless and I can barely see,” Reiner admits, looking up at Bertholdt, his distant red-tinted eyes shiny with wetness. Bertholdt looks away. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know that his best friend was already falling into the first stage of turning. His frown curls into a grimace and his shoulders shake with a silent, desperate sob. He lifts his free hand and covers his mouth. Reiner tugs at his arm. Bertholdt obliges and slowly sits back down. He shuffles closer and looks down at Reiner's lap. 

An alarm starts in the distance. Looking up at the sky, Bertholdt sees black smoke and a helicopter. Typically, seeing one of those would light him up with hope and he and Reiner would start hollering for rescue, but they've learned by now that it's fruitless. No one would risk themselves and go anywhere near the roads that are polluted with flesh-eaters. 

Reiner was silent. He reaches out and takes Bertholdt's dirtied hand that lay limp in his lap. He threads his bloody fingers between Bertholdt's and squeezes. Bertholdt sniffles and weakly returns it. The alarm in the distance ends. Bertholdt watches litter blow in the wind, the newspapers and missing person posters getting stuck against the damaged, abandoned cars that line the road. He sighs.

“You idiot. You shouldn't have pushed me out of the way.”

Reiner hums, and rests his head down on Bertholdt's shoulder. Bertholdt was typically uncomfortable with physical contact, but he always gladly accepted Reiner's touch. Even more so now. Reiner was circling his thumb around the back of Bertholdt's hand.

“It was the right thing to do. I'd prefer you to live over me any day, Bertl.”

Bertholdt remains silent. He knows there's more to it, but he doesn't push it. Reiner never wanted to talk about it, so why bring it up now of all times?

“I...” Reiner continues, his thumb ceasing to circle on his skin, “I also thought that saving you would eradicate the guilt I felt about what happened to Berik.” Bertholdt can't help the shock that appears on his face, his eyes averting to Reiner. Reiner was looking down, his lips shaking with a weak, forced smile.

“Reiner..” Bertholdt mumbles, eyes falling downcast, “You don't have to feel guilty about it. It wasn't your fault. He was well aware that he would have to sacrifice himself for you. And.. and I don't resent you for it, either.” He lifts his eyes back to Reiner, seeing him looking away with his brow furrowed tightly. Bertholdt sighs quietly and looks up to the street again. He settles against Reiner's side. Reiner's body was very warm and made Bertholdt sweat even more.

“Bertholdt..” Reiner whispers, “Before I change, I want to know one thing.”

Bertholdt's heart constricts. He looks at him anxiously, worrying at his bottom lip. He nods and asks quietly, “What is it?” Reiner pauses, as if contemplating asking it, before he speaks in a low voice.

“Were you ever angry or upset about me dating your brother?”

Bertholdt blinks, fingers subconsciously tightening around Reiner's. He hesitates, throat dry and eyes shifting from Reiner's face to their laps. He hears shuffled footsteps and weak groans. They look up simultaneously, and Reiner spots them before Bertholdt does.

“The ambulance,” Reiner mutters, slipping his hand from Bertholdt's. Bertholdt looks over to the blinking lights of the ambulance and sees a female flesh-eater who lacked an arm and a boy that looked to be in his teen years. His face had a gaping gash across it.

Standing on shaking legs, Bertholdt unclasps the sheath on his hip and slides out his machete with his heart beginning to race. The flesh-eaters were meandering around until they heard the crunch of the newspaper under Bertholdt's step as he approached them. Then they turn, heads lolling and teeth bared. They growl lowly upon seeing a human, their vision growing red and eyes widening. Bertholdt can barely look them in the eye. The eyes were the ugliest part. 

The boy is quicker on his feet, his slender arms outstretched as he charges at Bertholdt. Bertholdt brings the hard handle of the machete down on his head just before the creature could get a good grasp on the sleeves to his sweater. It disorientates him, sends him stumbling back, and in that moment Bertholdt beheads him with a hard swing of his arm, a strained grunt coming from him. Thick, contaminated blood paints across the dirtied white of the ambulance. 

The female flesh-eater gives a shrill shriek just as she lunges for him, her single arm reaching, long fingernails aimed for him. Bertholdt kicks her shins, sending her face-first to the filthy, cracked pavement. Reiner typically stomped their head in at this point, but Bertholdt hated getting the brain and blood all over. So instead, he simply drives the machete down into the back of her skull, silencing her angered howls. Her single arm falls limp at her side.

He withdraws the machete with a firm pull and a sickening noise before he wipes the blood and brain matter off on her shirt. Turning, he hurries back to Reiner as he slides the weapon back into the sheath.

“Sorry, took longer than I meant to,” Bertholdt says with worry in his tone, quickly crouching down and turning to rest back against the fence. While he catches his breath, he glances at Reiner. Reiner's chest was heaving, his face pale and clammy. Bertholdt sits up and turns to him, brow furrowed and throat tightening. Reiner's eyes were distant and his eyelids were drooped, his mouth fallen open weakly.

“Reiner!” Bertholdt whispers harshly in panic, eyes watering as he grabs his bicep and squeezes. Reiner blinks slowly a few times, his mouth closing as he swallows down the built up saliva. He looks in Bertholdt's general direction, not directly into his eyes. Bertholdt whimpers and reaches up to cup his sweaty cheek, cradling his head. Reiner leans into it, his eyes closing. He coughs, which sounded hoarse and sickly. He pants as Bertholdt shifts closer, stroking his thumb over Reiner's burning hot cheek.

“You.. never answered my question,” Reiner mumbles, his voice heavy and thick. Bertholdt feels him grab weakly at his sweater. Bertholdt lets out a shuddered breath. His frown tightens, eyes falling to Reiner's hand that was grasping at his shirt. He gasps when he sees blackness under his skin. Like on most infected, his veins were illuminated through his skin by a dark color. Bertholdt takes his hand gently and reaches his other hand up to tug back the sleeve. It exposes more black veins.

Reaching up desperately, Bertholdt yanks open Reiner's shirt, scattering buttons across the sidewalk. The black veins reach his chest, centered around his heart. Reiner coughs as Bertholdt sets his shaking hand over his heart. It was shockingly hot. He feels wetness break down over his cheeks. 

“Hey, it's fine,” Reiner grunts, shifting up against the fence, “I..it doesn't hurt. I just feel weak, that's all.” His eyes were previously closed, but he cracks them open to look up at Bertholdt, gaze unseeing and fixed on something past Bertholdt's shoulder. He chuckles hoarsely and then sighs.

“I wish I could see your face,” he murmurs sadly, eyes growing soft, “Hopefully I'll get to dream when I'm gone. Maybe you'll be in them. Berik, too.”

Bertholdt sobs softly, eyes burning from his tears. He shakes his head, moving his hand from Reiner's chest to grasp his hand.

“I won't let you wander, I promise. You won't dream, you'll be in Heaven, Reiner. You can meet Berik there. A-and you can protect me from above, too, right?” Bertholdt speaks, voice quick and desperate, his eyes unwavering on Reiner's face. He holds onto Reiner's warm hand tightly, tears breaking off his chin.

“Yeah,” Reiner mutters, his fingers twitching around Bertholdt's hand, “I won't let a single one of those fuckers lay a hand on you.” Bertholdt manages to give a weak laugh through his tears, his mouth turning up into a light smile. Reiner was smiling weakly too, his eyes closed again. Bertholdt silently lifts Reiner's hand and presses his sweaty forehead against his knuckles, his shoulders curling in as he cries. 

Two minutes pass before either one of them speaks.

“Reiner, I wasn't bothered by you being with Berik,” Bertholdt whispers, lowering Reiner's hand from his face slowly. He holds his hand in his lap, his reddened eyes glancing over Reiner's chest and the dark veins that ran under the sweaty skin. Reiner hums, a smile curling over his lips. He squeezes Bertholdt's hand. It was so weak Bertholdt barely felt it. Bertholdt wants to say more. He hesitates, looking down at their hands. He should say it, before it's too late and he would regret never telling Reiner in the end. He swallows thickly before speaking softly.

“Even.. even if I've been in love with you y-years before you two started dating.. I was okay with it. As long as you were happy, I would be okay with whatever, Reiner..”

There was a long moment of silence. Bertholdt's heart raced and his face was flushed from both his crying and his embarrassment due to admitting his big secret. The pause grew too long and Bertholdt realized Reiner's hand had grown slack in his. Bertholdt's heart stopped and his stomach clenched up. Shakily, he raises his stare back to Reiner and sees his mouth was fallen open again and his brow was no longer creased. His chest wasn't raising or falling either.

Bertholdt whimpers and shifts closer, his knees pressing into Reiner's thigh. He squeezes painfully tight at Reiner's hand and reaches out to shake his shoulder.

“Reiner...” Bertholdt whispers, eyes glancing over Reiner's face for any sort of sign. None comes. Reiner's eyelids remain closed and his head lolls a little from Bertholdt shaking him. Bertholdt's mouth curls, a sob perched in his throat. He swallows it down and desperately says in a shaky voice, “Come on, please don't leave me. Reiner!” 

Bertholdt digs his dirty nails into Reiner's hand and watches him for any movement. Bertholdt silently sits there, chest aching from the pain. He keeps his eyes fixed intently on Reiner's face. He continues to clutch at Reiner's hand as he leans forward and hides his face in Reiner's neck. He curls his other arm around his shoulders and pulls him close, but only for a moment. He gives a tight squeeze around him and then sits back slowly, sliding his arm away from his shoulders. Bertholdt sets Reiner's hand down into his lap and looks up at his expressionless face again.

He had seen this face before, many times. The relaxation in his brow, his eyelids and in his jaw. His mouth was always open when he slept, too, due to his endless snoring. And those snores were the loudest Bertholdt had ever heard. Bertholdt feels a weak happiness from the recollection of the times they've slept together, but he can't find a smile in him.

Reaching a hand up, he brushes back Reiner's bangs, which had grown out seeing as they haven't had the time for Bertholdt to cut it. 

“I hope you can find Berik,” Bertholdt says softly, fingers trembling in Reiner's blonde hair. After removing his fingers from his dirty hair, he looks at his peaceful face for a moment before grasping the dog togs that rested against Reiner's chest and pulling them over his head. Glancing down at them in his hand, it makes him think of the time Reiner was in the service. Every day he was scared of losing him and never seeing him again.

He never thought it would turn out like this. That he would be the one to end it. 

After pulling them over his own head, he stands and grabs onto the handle of his machete. He was so scared. He was scared of giving up immediately, simply because he couldn't handle being alone. He was scared of being eaten alive, by himself, suffering until the very last second of his life. He was scared of dying alone.

Withdrawing the machete, he stares at it in his hand, the gleam of the blade and the crusted blood. He wished he could do this in a cleaner, less gruesome way, but he doesn't want to attract a hoard with the echo of a bullet.

Lifting his other hand, he slides his fingers through Reiner's dirty blonde hair one last time before raising his arm, the machete clutched in his sweaty hand. Drawing his hand away from his hair, Bertholdt sees Reiner's eyelids twitch and his fingers shift on his thigh. 

Clenching his eyes shut from the image, he drives the machete down into his skull, painting the blonde hair a red. His breaths come out shaky and ragged, his hands shaking and stomach turning. Quickly, he pulls out the machete with that familiar disgusting wet noise and reaches around his waist to slide it into the sheath. He misses the opening a few times, his hands shaking so badly, but eventually it slips inside.

He doesn't want to see. He turns around, bends at the waist with his hands on his knees, and vomits his heart out with a retching noise. 

\---------

Sunlight illuminates the orange and red leaves of the trees, the fallen ones whipping around with the wind. Bertholdt watches the leaves fly around as they drive past them. The trees surrounded them on both sides. They were endless reminders of how Reiner insisted to jump into every pile of leaves during autumn when they were kids.

Bertholdt looks away. He takes Reiner's dog tags in his hand and looks at the engraved writing for a moment. He's read it countless, countless times over the past two months. Reiner's name, his blood type, his religion. He just couldn't get himself to stop. It's like he wanted to torture himself. And even now, even with this new hope, he couldn't let go. Those memories that used to make him smile only hurt his heart.

Would Reiner be upset with him? If he knew he blamed himself entirely, and that he could barely stay strong enough to not just give up and join him in the afterlife? Well, of course he knew. He was watching him, after all. If he knew that, then he must know Bertholdt lied when he said his relationship with his brother didn't bother him. Bertholdt wonders if he's also upset about that too.

Bertholdt sighs, realizing he was thinking of bad things again, and instead grabs his fragile book from his bag, which he had read numerous times already.

 

Twenty minutes later, the mini van comes to a stop and Bertholdt looks up to see steel. It was all steel, covering his entire view. Looking out the side window, his eyes follow down a stretch of high wall. He realizes it's the gate. Closing his book, he glances around at the other people in the car, seeing hope and excitement painted on their faces.

The high steel door slides open with a loud creak and soon the mini van full of survivors enters the sanctuary, with a promise of shelter, food, and a start to a new beginning.

 

A week later, after his initial recovery, Bertholdt stepped out into the sunlight. Bertholdt blinks a few times to let his eyes become accustomed to the brightness, before he looks around. There was a fountain in the center of the courtyard with grass surrounding it. Children ran around, shouting and laughing as they do so. He sees different people walking past or through the buildings. Some women were standing near the fountain, watching the kids as they talked with smiles on their faces.

No traces of blood. No traces of grime or dirt. Bertholdt wasn't sure if he could see any sort of trauma in these people, either. They were all acting like they hadn't gone through any of it. Maybe they hadn't. Maybe they had resided here since the very beginning, never experiencing the horror of being hunted. Of slaughter and death and losing loved ones.

He's drawn from his flooding thoughts when he hears footsteps approach him from his right, the gravel on the concrete crunching under their step. Glancing over, squinting through the sunlight, he sees a woman who looks to be in her twenties striding up to him, wearing an olive green tank top and black cargo pants. She stops in front of him, placing her hands on her hips.

“Wow, it really is you, Bertl,” she says in a raised, awed voice, her head tilted to the side a little. Bertholdt shifts uncomfortably, nervous. He stares at her. She looks familiar. Scarily familiar. But for some reason, he can't recall if he knew her before, much less her name. He raises a hand and scratches at the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I.. I don't really remember who you are,” he says quietly, dropping his hand. She smiles brightly, her golden eyes fixed up on Bertholdt's kindly. Her long blonde hair sways in the wind, some locks brushing against the side of her face.

“Does my long hair really change my appearance that much?” She asks, reaching a hand up to play with a few locks, a teeth-revealing grin breaking over her lips. Bertholdt furrows his brow. 

Bertholdt remains silent, unsure of what to say. The blonde woman's grin dies down when she realizes Bertholdt really doesn't remember her. Bertholdt squints, racking his brain for answers. Staring into her golden eyes, he thinks that it's strange how similar to Reiner she looked.

Then it clicks and he nearly laughs. How stupid was he? All that had changed was that her cropped hair had grown to the middle of her back.

“I can't believe I didn't recognize you right off the bat, Rene,” Bertholdt mutters, shaking his head. Rene blinks and then the big grin spreads over her lips again, lifting a hand to pat him on the bicep unintentionally hard. Bertholdt stumbles and then does laugh that time. Definitely Reiner's twin sister, if she didn't know her own strength, like her brother. 

Rene steps up and throws her arms around his shoulders in a hug. Bertholdt grows stiff at first, hands jerking up. He hesitates for a mere second, heart beginning to pound. In that brief pause, Rene steps back, saying in a tone of realization with her hands raised, “Oh, damn, that's right. Sorry, forgot that you only let Reiner do that kind of stuff.”

Bertholdt remains silent, staring down at her with his smile falling to a light frown. His heart constricts at the mention of her brother. He's afraid of telling her the truth. Rene smiles softly, brushing her long locks back over her shoulder. Instead of an embrace, she pats him on the forearm.

“Good to see you again. I'm glad you've made it.” Rene says this in a meaningful, sincere tone, her gentle golden eyes staring up into Bertholdt's. Bertholdt forces a smile and nods.

“Likewise.”

Silence follows. The elephant remains looming over them both. Rene looked tense and anxious, which was peculiar of her since she was the second most easy-going person Bertholdt knew. Bertholdt wets his lips and then speaks softly, “You want to sit down and talk?”

Rene smiles again and nods. “The little cafe these people have thrown together has some good hot chocolate. You have to try it. I insist, I'm afraid.” She says this with her smile expanding to a grin, her eyes bright with excitement. Bertholdt nods, feeling something good inside his chest. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since that one night in the shed with Reiner seven months ago. It was refreshing.

Rene takes his hand, something he isn't bothered by, and tugs him along.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering, Zombrex is an item derived from Dead Rising 2, a video game. It's an injection that suppresses the transformation for 24 hours.
> 
> esidisi-kars.tumblr.com


End file.
